


Discourtesy

by wanpakupaku



Series: Intimacy [2]
Category: Mads Mikkelsen - Fandom, Original Work, vampire - Fandom
Genre: Blood Drinking, Blood Sharing, Human-Werewolf Interactions, Human/Vampire Relationship, Monster Hunters, Multi, Vampire Bites, Vampire Slayer(s), Vampires, Werewolf, descriptions of violence, i'll add more tags as i add the new chapters because i don't want to spoil it before publishing, vampire/werewolf
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:28:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29679816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanpakupaku/pseuds/wanpakupaku
Summary: You have the vampire in your pocket, now it's time to get the wolf boy.
Relationships: Mads Mikkelsen/Original Character(s), Mads Mikkelsen/Original Female Character(s), Mads Mikkelsen/You, mads mikkelsen/the reader
Series: Intimacy [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2180946
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1. The Old Friend

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I wrote the first part of this last year, which was inspired by my dream I had when I was in a relationship that lacked lust and intimacy. So now that I'm in a poly relationship and much more open about my tastes, why not share newer fantasies also?
> 
> My faceclaim for Pietro is Lee Pace but feel free to imagine whoever you wish if you want to. Pietro is a tall fellow though, so keep that in mind if you'll slap another person's face on him lol

How long has it been since you first set foot in this estate? Probably four but closer to five years. You know every nook and cranny of it. You know each of the seven horses’ names, and even named the one that was born two years ago yourself. You took care of all the garden and the marble furniture that were forgotten along the way before you had arrived. Dealing with the needs of the building was just natural for you. Even though your father would never let you run his estate like you’ve done it for Mads the last couple of years. Some things may come to certain people naturally. Your mama had the voice of an angel you had heard. No one had taught her how to sing either. 

Almost every seminar Mads attends, you take part in also, if you wish to do so. He trains you in practical manners of the flesh, in every context. He taught you how to stitch a wound, how to mix certain drugs, and how to treat a patient in a respectful and tolerant way. You like to go on long strolls in the forest that surrounds your new home. Until sun sets that is. After the light disappears behind the hills, the air gets chilly, and feeding time for certain creatures arrive. You find your way back home before that happens though.  
The house is a safe space for many kinds of creatures, from humans to animals; from the wounded to the hungry. Both you and your partner do your best to be helpful to every soul you stumble upon, providing a helping hand when needed.

No, Mads’ type of entities do not have to murder others to quench their thirst and control their hunger. But sometimes he finds a certain type of people, rapists or murderers or overall awful people that no one would miss, and he would bring them home too, but they wouldn’t leave the next morning. On those days, when Mads’ friends, along with your dear friend Alev pays a visit, you stay only for the chitchat before their dinner. And almost every time, one of them teases you with the question: when will you join the fun? When will you be one of them? They have so much more to show you! Blood sickness passes the first week after you wake up, they promise! Half of the time Mads, and the other half of it Alev stops this teasing from the rest of the gentlemen. “She’ll let all of us know when she wants, do not make her feel like she has to.”

You kind of like this jestful pestering of theirs, you feel valued in a way no other type of people could provide. You had imagined them a secret club of some sorts, reluctant to let anyone else join in. It was all fun and games until last week’s feast though. When one of them said something none of them had before. “I wonder if you’ll choose another path like Crow.” The declaration ends with a smirk towards Mads. “Wasn’t he going to join us one of these days?” To which your lover answers back. “Oh, that is not what I told you, Marcus.” Marcus throws a loud laugh. “My mistake then.”

Of course, you ask him what he meant the day after that. He, rather shyly, explained to you that he feels that deep in you, you feel ready to become one of them. He is right. You do feel ready, you just didn’t know how to open up the topic. Now that he had, you told him, yes, you do. He smiled, a sincere smile, with his eyes glowing. Or maybe they’re glowing because of the prior night’s feast. So, he said, he was arranging something in secret. A place for you two to spend some time together. Away from all the needs of your current daily life. With much more of his blood in you than ever before, to let you experience something closer to the real deal. And let you decide whether you really want it or not. Because when you pass a certain point, there is no going back. You slowly nodded. You were reminded of why you are in love with him. He is considerate and resourceful, always. 

Who is this Crow person then? And what do they have to do with anything? “He is an old friend.” He landed a small kiss on your hand and you rolled closer to him in bed. “He has been managing a place for me, for over a decade now. I told him to ready the estate for us. He is ready to stay with us and protect you during times I might not be able to.”

“A personal soldier at my disposal?” You asked.

“A dear old friend who wants to help.” He corrected you, still smiling, knowing that you’re jesting. “But he would do anything you told him to do. So I would like to ask you not to abuse your power too much.”

“No promises.” The kiss you shared ended up becoming a passionate night of love. You have no objections to the feasts as he becomes positively wilder than his hungry self, just like you like it.

This is why you are standing in front of this little cabin in the woods right now, your breath visible, your fur coat protecting you from the icy cold that turns your nose red, and waiting for the tall man to open the door for you. “After you.” He says when he opens the door and steps aside. He has a cheap-looking shirt, pants that don’t fit his body well, and some old boots on his feet. He doesn’t seem like he’s affected by the cold at all. In fact, if your eyes are not deceiving you, you’re almost sure he had some visible heat coming off of his body, the cold just dispersing when it hits his sturdy physique. You nod as a thank you and head inside. A fire is running, the inside is much warmer than the outside. Mads takes your coat off as you hear the door closing behind. The carriage makes muffled sounds in the snow as it leaves. It won’t be back until after two weeks. A chandelier made of grand antlers hangs down the high ceiling. You can see the kitchen door from where you stand, and the ladders leading up to your bedroom is on the left. Mads takes you on a tour of the small house. Just as you reach the beginning of the stairs, you hear the tall friend of Mads leaving out the front door. “Where are you going?” You ask, after turning towards him. 

“Small space, lady.” He touches his head where a hat would be placed if he had one, mocking a gentleman’s salute. “Gotta breath, need the woods.” And he leaves. English is not his first, and maybe not even his second language. He has a very thick accent, thick brows, chin height blond hair mixed with already graying hair strands here and there, that reminds you of a bird’s nest and broad shoulders. He also doesn’t seem to mind his dirty patch of beard. Not a gentleman at all. His build is not grand, but you’re not sure who would win a fight between Mads and him, had they both been human. Mads told you that his tall friend, right, Pietro is his name, is some sort of creature, something that is other than human. But he left out the specifics. You remember how Marcus said something about “Crow” taking a route different than them. What kind of a nickname is Crow when one’s name is Pietro? And he’s blond, if he had dark hair you might have seen some kind of connection between the two. But you don’t ask him. He seems to address him with his name, so maybe this Crow person is not even Pietro. You don’t care much about this person, so pressing on seems pointless to you. 

The first night, Pietro prepares the birds he caught during the day and cooks them until they are tender. He uses different types of seasonings, which makes the taste much richer than you’d expect. He’s a good cook. You thank him for the meal and he just nods as he gulps down birds in one go before each big sip from his drink. You catch him almost swearing when they are chatting with Mads about the last decade. They talk in English to keep you in the conversation even though you got really good at Danish. Though maybe Pietro doesn’t know how to speak it. He is a woodworker by day, and he has his own house not too far from here. Apparently, Mads left this place for his personal use but Pietro just scratches his head, tilts back in his chair, and says that he never felt comfortable in such a luxurious place. You definitely wouldn’t call here luxurious. Cozy, sweet, tolerable, sure, but you’re used to a bit more than this. After dinner, he takes his leave and lets you two lovebirds spend some time alone together. Or maybe simply rest, after such a long journey. You wish the first but find yourself dozing off in the bed waiting while Mads was tidying up downstairs. 

The next day is spent exploring the snowy mountain with Pietro on your side. He doesn’t talk much when you two are alone. He keeps an eye out for any kind of danger and shows you animal nests you come across. When you’re on your way back around afternoon, eating some dried fruits to overcome the hunger left from skipping lunch because you were so intrigued by the forest creatures, he asks a question you didn’t expect: “Will you miss human you?”

“Do you miss human you?” You ask back, still lacking the knowledge of what type of creature he is. But you realize that you appear as if you do when he answers with a slow nod. “No problem, I like being me.” He adds: “Sometimes, though, be just human was easier.” You don’t ask what he means by that. You kind of get it, at least you think you do. You’re afraid of missing being human too. You’re worried that you might want to not be a vampyr at some point in the future, that’s the only thing that holds you back. What if you can’t accept your new self? What if you miss the sunlight? Mads told you that it gets easier to spend some time under the sun as the years pass. But from the knowledge you collected from things you heard over time, he must be at least two centuries old, probably even older. You remember even he had a hard time staying under the sun… When was it? You see a hazy image in your mind, of him removing his hat and gloves and looking very tired after coming back in, during a morning. When was it though? You can’t seem to remember.  
Even though it is bright here day and night due to the never-melting snow, the sun stays up for very short hours. The light is buried behind clouds all day, so Mads was fine when you two arrived yesterday. He did sleep until nighttime though, as he is doing today. You watch Pietro hunting some rabbits, killing them with his handmade bow and arrows. He promises to show you how to do it sometime if you’d like. “How to make a bow and arrow, or how to hunt?” Your question stuns him. He looks at you, puzzled. “How will you hunt with no bow and arrow?” You remind him that you’ll be a vampire soon, catching a rabbit with your bare hands will be no challenge. He reminds you that you won’t need to hunt the rabbits then. “What’s the point in teaching me any of it then?” You ask back. 

He looks away for a moment as if he heard something. Then keeps his hand up to tell you to stay where you are without looking at you, and disappears in the bushes for a short while. When he returns, empty-handed to your surprise, he seems to have moved on from the topic, so you don’t bring it up again. He is kind of aloof, distracted, and silent for the rest of the walk. His head is mostly down, his chin closer to his chest, tilting his head to either side sometimes as if he is hearing something you can’t. You turn back and look into the woods, trying to see what makes him act that way.

“Don’t.” He puts his arm around you and pushes you softly to make you walk faster. “It’s good. No worry.” You whisper to him that he says this while making you walk faster. He no longer puts his head down or tilts his head. He looks straight ahead and walks as if he forgot something on the fireplace. “Don’t look. No one knows you hear them.” You answer back, your question rushed. “Are we being followed?” His answer is late, it arrives when the house is in your vision once more. “Nothing you should scare about.” He almost throws you inside. “Animals.” He says. “I’ll go and be back.”

He tells you to lock the door and you do so. You wait for long minutes, your heart beating in your throat, the uneasy feeling of danger keeping you from giving your attention to any sort of time-killing activity. You re-ignite the fireplace and pour yourself some tea. As minutes continue to pass by, the uneasy feeling makes you less and less mobile, you try to find comfort near the fireplace, trying to focus on a book and drinking your tea. After what feels like an eternity, you hear someone knocking on the door. “Pietro here.” You hear your tall companion calling from the other side. “Open please.”

You rush to open the door for him. There he stands, with a whole deer, dead and dragged to your doorstep, held by its hooves by the wild man. “You make too much noise.” He grins. “You stay home so I catch it.” You let your breath go with relief but hold it right back up. You dislike seeing dead animals before they turn into meals. Pietro, grinning ear to ear, gets inside to get a knife to skin the poor creature outside.


	2. Visitors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some action before the "real" action

It was the chilly afternoon of the third day when you fell asleep on the sofa while reading a book. You didn’t even feel the sleep creeping up on you. It must’ve taken you out around noon actually because when you wake up, your body feels like it hasn’t moved in a while. You are wrapped in the softest fur cover. Someone must’ve covered you with it while you were sleeping. The sun is still up, so Mads must still be in his room. And you haven’t heard from his friend for a while, who is accompanying you on this trip. So who is the person that just awoke you with his footsteps? Someone who didn’t bother with removing their outside shoes and put on the leather inside-slippers, that’s who! Their heavy shoes hit the ground as quietly as possible but being silent is not the strongest suit of the pair it seems.

Just before you can lift your head to see the intruder, someone holds you by your arms and pulls you towards the floor. You can’t even scream in response, you’re not awake enough yet. The person with the heavy shoes then throws your fur to the floor, pours a liquid with a turbid smell all over it and lights it on fire before a question forms in your mind, let alone get out in between your lips. As the fur catches on fire and the tall figure knocks your sofa over the flames, the adrenaline filling your veins moves you backward, towards the open door that faces the frozen back garden. 

The figure then pours more of the liquid over the Persian rug and pulls the dark velvet drapes, dismantling the whole section in one move, and throws a second small fire over the fabric pile. As the flames reach over the figure’s height you hear your own voice asking: “Who are you? What are you doing?”

The figure looks to you over his shoulder, a middle-aged man, you know him from somewhere but you are also sure you’ve never seen him before. His eyes are buried in his sockets, he looks like a dirty, bitter man. His stare is filled with hate and you feel how much he despises you. He spits on the floor, his face now creating a dark profile with the flames as the background. “The sad widow,” He says, before turning towards you and holding your arms rigorously. “Aren’t you supposed to be back in England by now?” His voice is rough, as if he should clear his throat but refuses to do so.

Before you can answer he lifts you up, with no regard to how much he might hurt you physically. You are thrown outside the cottage, into the snow that would reach your knees if you were standing. The snow doesn’t break your fall instead feels like you fell on a really cold bench. It snowed last night, and it is as solid as ice now. You yelp in pain. You can see your breath when you scream: “Why are you doing this?”

The man leaves the cottage right after you. Throws another piece of clothing set on fire inside before facing you. “Just getting rid of pests, Madame.”

Another man, dressed very similar to the one that stands in front of you, holds you from under your shoulders and starts pulling you further away from the now burning wooden building. Now your mind and body realize that they both should protest. You start flinging your arms around and screaming with the hopes of landing a hit on the person that holds you. You call the name of your lover. “Mads!” you scream, your voice echoes over the white mountain that has tall pines sprinkled across the land. What was the name of the man that was accompanying you? “Pietro!” You call this time. Where are they? Where the FUCK are they?

The smell of the burning wood reaches your nostrils. You are still paddling the air like a cat trying to ruin the curtains. The visibly older man, the one that has just set your winter escapade cottage on fire, catches your arms in the air. He stands much closer than you would be comfortable standing in front of such a man. His breath stinks and he doesn’t look like he bathes very frequently. “Stop yapping.” He shouts and a hand lands on your face. Your screams are cut with the shock of the impact. “Now…” He begins talking, his expression rather relaxed now that you are not making any noise anymore. You hear loud footsteps on the roof, running feet slamming on the surface, so do the aggressors. All of you look up to see the source. 

A figure lands in between you and the somewhat familiar old man, right before he throws himself back to avoid the impact. In the split second you face the rooftop savior you realize that it is none other than Pietro, the companion who was out for a hunt to get some dinner for the two of you. “Sorry, lady.” He says to you, with his thick accent. You are once again thrown to the side but you land on your hands and knees and can brace yourself this time. You hear the pained scream of the man who you think is the one that was just holding you from behind. The rest is too fast for you to even process. You see blood drops spraying on the white snow, melting the snow where they land, creating dark cavities on the canvas. Someone else catches you and lifts you up. “I got you, my love.” whispers your cold-blooded lover. He holds you close to his body and his arms cover your upper body and legs securely. You whisper his name, tears forming in your eyes. You’re sure that it’s because of the relief you’re feeling, but the cold is a factor also.

Horsed cavalries are in your sight, you spot two of them before you bury your face into his coat and leave the rest to him. The horses neigh in panic and you hear more shouting. One of the voices belongs to Pietro. 

“Wait!” You shout. “Pietro! We have to go back for him!”

“Not necessary.” He whispers back. He is running with the wind, you can hear the galloping and the rustling of snow far behind. Mads is so much faster than them. Your heartbeat somewhat slows down when you hear him whispering again. “My love,” He says. “We have to learn something.”

“What?” You ask back. “What is it?”

Is it something you can help with? You lift your head to see who is after you. There were apparently more than two chivalries as you see three men on horses following you. There is distance between you, but you haven’t lost them yet. One of them has pointed a crossbow your way. Maybe he needs the number of the huntsmen? 

“Three!” You say.

“Forgive me.” He answers. 

You feel the crossbow hitting his left shoulder from his back as his body swings with the impact. He holds you tightly and softens the blow of falling down at such a high speed with his body, caging you with his limbs. You roll more than twice when his back finally hits a tree and you stop tumbling in the snow. You immediately raise on your elbows and to your surprise, he isn’t where he was laying a second ago. 

You call his name once. The riders are approaching you full speed as they cheer for the landing hit. You call his name for the second time. They are about to reach you. Your legs and arms hurt but you push through the pain and force your body to stand up. If this is the day you die, you won’t accept your end while lying on the floor, gasping for air. You don’t call for him a third time. The back of your hand rests on your cheek that had just received the blow before Mads reached you. You feel the cold in its full effect, you’re shivering. You have a hard time standing up straight. The horses slow down as they are about to arrive. Even if you were in better shape, running from them on your own wouldn’t be an option. You press your back to the pine tree. One of the men jumps off his horse to get closer. You are cornered, just like that. You don’t recognize any of the faces. Neither do you know the symbol on their chests. The head of a snake, with a knife going through its skull, entering from the top and exiting from the bottom, the blade visible through the snake’s open mouth. They don’t seem to be vampires as they chose to attack in day and prefer riding horses for pursuit. So they are most probably human. The closest one shows his disgusting teeth and smiles at you. “Hello dear, we missed you.” He grabs you by the hair. “Won’t you offer us some cigars now?”

Your hands reach for his grip to ease the pain on your scalp. You scream once. He pulls again to hurt you again, you hold the scream in this time and look in his eyes. “Who are you to miss me?” You ask back. “I would not waste any gifts on you scabs.” You spit on his face. He flinches back and then wipes it with the back of his hand. He wears thick, dark gloves. He holds your face. The inner surface of the glove has a rough texture, it hurts when he tightens the grip in his hand that holds your cheeks.

“Not my first time killing a mortal.” He says, acting like he didn’t hear you. Fear and anger consume your soul. Your body shakes so much that you might not have been able to stand up had this man not been holding you with both of his hands. 

“Is she a vampire?” Asks one of the men still on their horses.

“Doesn’t matter.” He answers while looking at your face and eyes up close. “She’s the bitch of a vampire, a vermin isn’t she?”

“Are we going to kill her?”

“Why not?”

Suddenly the horses rise up and start neighing in fear. One of the men falls off the animal while the other makes an inhuman noise as if he’s drowning underwater. Your attacker grabs you and hits the back of your head to the trunk. The outer borders of your vision darkens for a moment but you don’t let yourself fall into unconsciousness. One of the horses starts running away while another gasp and choke is heard. The nasty man turns his back to you to face the threat. Grabbing onto the man’s cape, you do your best to stand up as Mads, covered in blood, rips the man’s guts out. He catches you before you fall once more. 

“Are you alright?” He asks, his tone hurried and panicked. “My love, I’m sorry, are you alright? Look at me.”

You force yourself to look into his eyes. “Look at me.” He says again. “Your head is bleeding, but nothing serious. I’m going to take you somewhere safe. Stay awake. Don’t sleep.” You don’t know how much time passes in between his words but you open your eyes again when he calls to you by your name. “My love, stay awake. We’re almost there.” The vision blurs but you force yourself to stay awake. You forcefully blink a few times. “It’s okay. We’re almost there.” 

You must’ve passed out for a while because the trees look different when you hear Mads’ voice again and open your eyes. “Dear, open your eyes.” And then you hear him mumbling. “Fuck, you’re shaking like a leaf.” You feel him kicking something open. You vaguely feel someone undressing you. You feel warmer, somewhat. You can feel that you’re safe for now, sleep gets a hold of you in the end.

After a dreamless sleep you wake up in panic. Your upper body flings forward as you are gasping for air. When you reach, your hand lands on Mads. He catches your grip and holds your hand. “I’m here. It’s okay.” As your body relaxes, you look at him and see the crossbow arrow sticking out of his shoulder. 

“Oh my God!” you gasp in horror. “Are you-?”

“I’m okay.” He answers. “Don’t worry, it doesn’t even hurt that much.” 

You remember him getting shot and the two of you rolling in the snow. You somehow hadn’t processed that he, indeed, was actually shot and a bolt had entered his skin and was sticking out from the front.

“THAT much?” You quickly rip his shirt to take a better look. You helped him with his patients many times. You can look at open wounds without gagging and you can stitch up small injuries as well. Even though this situation surpasses your talents and first-hand experience so far, you can carry out his directives easily. “What can I do? Tell me what I can do for you.”

“You can calm down and drink something for a start.” He hands you an alcohol bottle. Right from the bottle? Where are one’s manners? “Best thing I could find for now. Drink it. We need to keep you warm. The stove is in good shape so I started a fire going-"

“Dear Lord, the fire!” You scream again. The memories start coming back. “Pietro! Those people! Who were they?”

You see him hesitating to answer. He almost always answers all of your questions in any given situation; the key phrase is: almost. “Pietro will probably join us in a while, please stop worrying about him.”

You want to say: No. I do not accept this. You owe me answers after our winter house is burned down and each of us almost died. You can guess that they might be some sort of hunters from the way they act, and how they knew that vampires existed and they seemed like they were going for the kill. These people knew where Mads and you were. They had waited for a moment during which Mads was asleep and Pietro was away for the attack. They probably stalked you even before you had arrived here. Well, there, to the house that probably no longer exists now. So you take a deep breath and try to calm yourself. 

You take a look at yourself. No visible injuries apart from the small wound at the back of your head and you don’t feel bad apart from the headache and the confusion. Your body is in a small space, only big enough for one stove, one single bed, one table and two chairs. The grand bathroom is bigger than this shed. Oh and also, no bathroom inside. Great. “Whose place is this?”

“Not ours.” He stands up to feed the fire confined in the stove. “Probably a lonesome hunter. There’s only one bed and there is no food for you. So my best guess is that he left to catch dinner.”

You wrap yourself up with the duvet he gave you. It smells a bit and would definitely give you a rash if you had put it directly on your naked skin. But it’s also warm and you feel somewhat better when you wrap yourself up. Mads looks surreal with the bolt sticking out of his body but he acts as if nothing is wrong. Throw the wood in, oh, you spilled some blood on the floor huh, no worries, everything is normal. No it’s not. 

“You’re not okay, please stop acting like you are.”

He looks at you. “You’re in better shape than me. That is a fact.” He walks to you slowly. His face wrinkles in pain. “But I don’t think I will remove it unless our friend joins us.” He lands a soft and short kiss on your forehead, very obviously having a hard time bending his body any lower than that. “In fact I believe he’s already here.” Then you hear it too, the crunching steps in the snow, the labored and pained breathing… The angry growling…The claw of a big animal scratching the outer wall of the shed? 

“My love,” Mads looks at you calmly. “Please tell me that you still have the bell I gave you last week.”

Your hands quickly search your collar. The patting moves land on the small bell you had worn as a necklace for a few days now. You take it off and hand it to your lover. He lands a small kiss on your head while thanking you and faces the door. “I’ll be right back.”

The scratching sound is on the door now. Something big rests on the door for a moment and then you hear another growl. “Pietro…” Calls Mads. His tone is soothing. He rings the small bell a few times. “No need to break the door, friend.” he talks as if he’s calming down a scared child. Something heavy rests on the door again. “Pietro,” A few more rounds of ringing the bell. “It’s okay Pietro. We are your friends.” He cautiously walks to the door. When his hand grabs the door handle, he rings the bell for the last time. “Pietro, I’m opening the door. You better be on your best behavior.”

When he opens the door slowly, Pietro lurches inside but holds onto the chair and maintains his balance. The icy wind fills in the room and fresh snow falling from the sky forms swirls in the air. You gasp in shock. His whole body is covered in horizontal and vertical cuts. It looks like his skin was ripped apart piece by piece and he is covered in blood from head to toe. “Chert voz’mi!” His body falls on the wooden chair like a heavy sack of potatoes. 

“Glad to have you back.” 

“Glad to be back, friend.” He reaches for the bottle that was resting on your side. “May I?”

You stutter, unable to process the scene in front of you. “Yes, yes of course.”

He takes a big gulp, takes a deep breath and finishes the whole bottle in the second one. Mads sits next to you and puts your bell necklace back on and leaves his hands on your shoulder. 

“What did they do to you?” You ask. “What’s all these scars?”

“Me? Nothing. They lack the capacity to do me anything.” He leaves the bottle on the table with a rather hard slam. You’re surprised it didn’t break. “I push myself too much. Normally need few minutes. Today I transform in one minute. My body not like it.”

“Would you want some of my blood?” Offers Mads.

“Friend, you look like shit and you offer blood?” He laughs with all the air in his lungs. “Besides,” He steals a look towards your way. “No need for erection in middle of storm.”


End file.
